


The Presumption of Innocence

by Polina_K_Viardo



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Banter, De-Aged Garak, Humor, Inspired by Art, Teen!Garak, ds9reversebang 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 00:02:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8554849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polina_K_Viardo/pseuds/Polina_K_Viardo
Summary: As Julian is finding out, teen Garak is neither plain, nor simple.
A ds9reversebang entry for this gorgeous-gorgeous fan art by Apiaree.
[18+: This is content restricted to audiences of 18 years or over.]





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rating M is only for having adult themes - there is no explicit content in the story. 
> 
> [18+: This is content restricted to audiences of 18 years or over. Do not read unless you are over 18.]

[Fan art](http://apiaree.tumblr.com/post/151403576462/i-am-weak-for-younggarak-for-the) by [Apiaree](http://apiaree.tumblr.com/).

***

It was a rubbish year.  
  
The reveal of Julian's augmentations had came right on the heels of his kidnapping by the Dominion. Garak had had to face his two greatest fears and watch Cardassia betray them all.  
  
And now this. An energy source of unknown origin had hit Garak and rendered him… well. Late teens was Julian's best guess.    
  
The task of explaining to this poor youth what kind of soul-crushing disappointments and terrible loss awaited him in the future had fallen on Julian.  
  
He wasn't surprised.  
  
It _was_ a rubbish year.  
  
Garak lifted his eyes from the mirror in his hands. "But that's how I've always looked like"--he bit his lip--"sir."  
  
Julian cringed. "No. This morning you were a middle aged Cardassian. And now you are no older than…than…?"  
  
Garak frowned, oblivious to the fishing. Or pretending to be.  
  
_Do you know what kind of training an Obsidian Order operative could complete by that age?_ Worf had asked at the senior staff meeting earlier. Julian hadn't dared to guess.  
  
Garak sat stiffly on the med cot, his feet not quite reaching the floor. He had never been one of those bulky Cardassians but, apparently, in his youth he had been even less solid. All soft angles and soulful eyes.  
  
This Garak could play a role of plain, simple gardener at some distant Romulan embassy all too well.  
  
At the same time, Julian couldn't shake off the feeling that he was looking at someone unfinished, incomplete. Someone many years away from the Garak Julian knew and… knew. _Impostor!_ a small, dark part of Julian kept hissing.  
  
Garak let go of the mirror and clutched the data padd with a file on him to his breast, his eyes full of ill-concealed distress. Julian caught himself, ashamed.  
  
"It's a lot to take in -- it's as if you have traveled forward in time," Julian said softly, the lack of Garak's usual animation cutting him like a knife. "But we are already searching for a technical solution to reverse the effect of that energy surge. The chances are, you won't need to think about any of it at all." He spread his hands to indicate details of Garak's bleak future.  
  
_If we can't reverse the effect, the sooner Garak accepts reality of the situation, the better. We need him working on the Cardassian codes._ Sisko's decision had been final. He hadn't swayed even though Worf, Odo, and Jadzia had all supported Julian's protests.  
  
Garak stared at the floor, defeated, an over-sized red tunic making him look even smaller. Julian knew that their Garak, the real one, would have sacrificed everything, up to and including his peace of mind, for the sake of Cardassia. _You know it, Julian. I know it_ , Kira had said. She was right, but Julian didn't have to be happy about it.  
  
To give Garak what little comfort they could, Julian was to brief him in the privacy of one of the examination rooms. The cost of this privacy was a phaser at Julian's belt, that Odo had slipped to him with a significant look. Well, Odo would know.  
  
At last, Garak looked up, a grim determination on his face, "Thank you for your kind concern, sir."  
  
"It's nothing. After all, we are your friends." Well, that was not precisely true. "You can keep calling me sir if you prefer, but do not feel obligated."  
  
Garak solemnly nodded. Then he frowned as if pierced by a sudden thought. "Did I get it right? That nobody knows the reason I was exiled? Not even you, one of my friends?" he asked, the doubt clear in his voice.  
  
It was very well deserved doubt or would have been, if Garak had not been such an evasive ass. Julian was on the verge of saying just that, but upon catching Garak's eyes, he only cleared his throat and said, "You have never confided in anyone on the station, I'm afraid."  
  
Garak stared at his feet, his fingers getting pale around the padd. "I can't believe it!" he said under his breath. "How could we let this happen? Make Bajor and the entire Quadrant both our enemies! This must be wrong." He shook his head. Then he lifted his eyes, giving Julian a sharp look. "It is impossible to believe. But I want to. Because I can see that your are a honorable man, Doctor."  
  
What?  
  
Garak slipped from the cot. "This room's design, the technology behind the data padd, my clothes -- all of it looks genuine. But objects can be manufactured as well as data." He walked up to Julian, the effect of his passionate words spoiled by the way his tunic kept slipping down his shoulder. "Personal convictions, on the other hand, are hard to fake." Were they? Garak took Julian's hands in his own as if to capture all of his attention. "Look me in the eyes, Doctor Bashir, and tell me that you are not lying." His hands tightened. "Tell me that I can trust you."  
  
Julian reeled, taken aback by Garak's intensity. "Of course I'm telling you the truth, why would I lie… about..."  
  
Garak's lips curved in a smirk.  
  
"What?" Julian asked, off-kilter.  
  
"Did you really think I would blindly believe you? Just because you are being nice and have a pretty face?" Julian spluttered. "Come on, Doctor. Your story does not hold together at all. I have many friends? And you are one of them? _Please._ You, a stellar Federation officer, and me, a worn-down spy from an enemy side. What could we possibly have in common?" Garak's stare was withering. "What do we even talk about?"    
  
"Cardassian literature?" Julian offered.  
  
"What, like The Never Ending Sacrifice?" Garak asked with derision, but when Julian nodded, he perked up. "Really? Like how it's the greatest achievement of… Now don't you try to distract me!"  
  
Julian stepped back, getting out of Garak's hold. "My relationship with you older counterpart is irrelevant, and I refuse to defend it! I understand that all of this is hard to accept…"  
  
"What is hard to accept? That Bajoran guerrilla fighters overthrew our hold on the planet? Well, yes, that doesn't sound too convincing."  
  
"Garak…"  
  
"Or maybe the fact that wormhole aliens are in the sky?" Garak was speaking with his usual animation, a feature that Julian would have welcomed, if it hadn't been so effective in getting under his skin. "That's my favorite part, I must confess, right after this ridiculous business with…"  
  
"Garak!"  
  
Garak felt silent, but his eyes watched Julian with curiosity. A curiosity of a predator amused by antics of its prey. Julian huffed and crossed his hands. Unfortunately, one of his sleeves unrolled, spoiling the dramatic effect. Julian would have rather kept glaring at Garak, but an unrolled sleeve was impossible to ignore in this abominable heat. He had to push it back.  
  
When he glanced up, Garak was suddenly that much closer.  
  
"Doctor Bashir," Garak purred, his eyes traveling up and down Julian's figure in appreciation that angered and embarrassed Julian in equal measure, "I can't help but notice that this room's temperature is perfect for Cardassian physique. I wonder how you learnt about it."  
  
His suggestive tone made it clear that he thought he knew exactly how. And he was wrong! Julian stepped back. "I'm a doctor, of course I know such things."  
  
"Of course. _Sir_." Garak drawled the last word, giving it an obscene edge. His tunic slipped further, revealing more of the shoulder ridges than Julian had seen in his life. Wasn't that a clavicle ridge that connected right to… Garak caught his gaze and smiled smugly.  
  
Time to establish some boundaries. Julian took another step back. "Remember how I told you that you can keep calling me sir? Well, don't do it anymore."  
  
"How did I used to call you, then?" Garak asked, advancing again and not the least put-out. It was just like Garak to turn insult and rejection into particular compliment to himself.  
  
Julian's back hit the wall. "Doctor, or… or…" He flushed, backed into a corner in more ways than one. "My dear."  
  
"Indeed." That smile was all sly insinuation. "So when you said we were friends did you mean..."  
  
Julian raised his hand to deny, glad that he knew how to refute this one. "You call that a lot of people."  
  
"I must have something going for me, then, don't I?"  
  
"Garak…"  
  
Garak was so close now, Julian could feel the heat from his body. Garak's gaze fell to the collar of Julian's uniform. "Have my older counterpart told you that these Starfleet uniforms of yours are quite fetching?" Garak delicately took the zip between his grey fingers. "He should know his way about them, I imagine, what with his being clothier and all…" Garak bit his own lip.  
  
This had to stop. Julian raised his hands to push him away but Garak was already stepping back, his expression blank. Then he raised a phaser.  
  
A phaser that he stole from Julian.  
  
"I applaud whoever had come with such an elaborate story -- to think, the Occupation is over, the Dominion is raging war on the Quadrant, and the Order is destroyed! It's brilliant, that's what it is. Now. Time for the truth." He smiled, reminding Julian why bared teeth were sign of aggression in animal kingdom. "And, Doctor Bashir, sir, as you and I are on such a friendly terms, I'll give you 60 seconds to explain what's really going on here."  
  
_Et tu, Brute,_ echoed in Julian's head. Give it to Garak to turn in on him in a span of half an hour. But this was not actually Julian's Garak -- it was an unknown Obsidian Order operative who held Julian at a phaser point.  
  
Julian's fingers flexed even as he remained deliberately still. "Garak," he said, flattening his voice, "I understand, it is really difficult situation to be in--"  
  
"46 seconds left, Doctor."  
  
"--but acting out won't..."  
  
"41."  
  
Julian's anger surged. He had had enough people threatening him in his own Infirmary. "So what? Are you going to stun me? Kill me? What chances of escape do you have after that? The room is under surveillance…"  
  
"Please." Garak's voice dripped with derision. "Examination rooms like these are made for privacy." He gave Julian another withering look. "I'm waiting."  
  
"This is ridiculous." Julian crossed his hands, his sleeve unrolling again. "I refuse to play this game. You are not going to kill me so put that down."  
  
"If you don't start talking soon, the death will be the least of your worries."  
  
Wait, what?  
  
Garak's tone was all deadly menace but the phrasing itself… So banal. Trite, even. More like a foolish youthful bravado than an actual threat and coming from young Garak…  
  
Julian loudly exhaled, comprehending at last. But of course! "You aren't done with your training!" Garak's eyes briefly narrowed. "You are threatening me, a hardened Starfleet officer with a fate worse than death! You know nothing about intimidation." To think, that Garak was indeed as green in some areas as he appeared! Now that was something impossible to believe. "You haven't finished your interrogation course, have you?"  
  
Garak stepped back, his grip on the phaser tightening. "Whatever gives you hope…"  
  
"You've probably never even shot anyone." Julian stepped forward, closer to the console table. "It's not like poisoning a Romulan senator, you know," he said, hit with inspiration, "it takes different resolve."  
  
Garak paled.  
  
"Look at you! You are a child…"  
  
Garak fired, and Julian ducked under the table, the shot singeing his hairs. The door slid open, and Odo glanced inside, instantly flinching back as the shot went past him and melted part of the bulkhead. The fool could have been killed! Julian was so having a talk with him later about unauthorized surveillance -- but Odo had just bought them several precious seconds. Seconds that were enough for a tricorder from the console table to connect with Garak's head.  
  
Julian still got his aim.  
  
***  
  
Garak glanced up from the mirror in his hands. "Well, that's how I've always looked like, Doctor. Funny that a knock to the head should restore my proper age and memory." He sounded wistful.  
  
Julian shifted, uncomfortable. "It wasn't that. While you were unconscious the same bolt of energy undid the effect."  
  
"Ah. I don't remember a thing. I hope my younger counterpart acquitted himself well during today's trial."  
  
Julian huffed and put down the tricorder. "Yes, quite well, I'm glad you asked. At first, he pretended to be innocent and pitiful, then he tried to discomfit me by insults, and when that failed"--Julian fixed Garak with forbidding stare--"outrageously flirted."  
  
"Oh." Garak nodded. "Nothing out of the ordinary, then?"  
  
Julian splattered. Served him right for expecting Garak to get embarrassed. Even Garak's younger counterpart had had no shame. "Thankfully, you weren't done with your training," Julian said vehemently because Garak's smile was too self-pleased, "which saved the lives of Odo and me."  
  
"Training? What kind of training do you mean?" Garak asked with a perplexed expression. Upon catching Julian's look, though, he tightened his lips and shrugged in concession. The war was gaining on them, if Garak was so easily dissuaded from obfuscating the obvious.  
  
The war was gaining on Julian too. Already he was violating his principles and it was just the beginning.  
  
Garak sighed and shook his head. "I wish this war could leave you as ignorant of the violent ways of the world as my past self had been."  
  
Julian sat down by him on the cot. "I'm afraid it's too late for that."  
  
A somber silence fell again, but Julian had had enough. Enough of silences and leaving things unsaid. They were at war, for pity's sake!  
  
He couldn't say it.  
  
Garak rose to leave the room.  
  
Come on, Julian! Don't spoil this rubbish year further!  
  
He jumped to his feet. "I'm glad," he said hurriedly. Garak turned to look at him with quizzical expression on his face. "I'm glad you are back to normal."  
  
Garak smiled thinly. "Those codes won't decipher themselves."  
  
"It's not that. I mean, we all like you better the way you are now, violent ways or not." Julian's courage was boosted by the nebulous 'we'. Anybody could be hiding behind it.  
  
Garak would have none of it, of course. "Why, Doctor, I thought you preferred them young and spry," he said, his eyes sparkling with mirth.  
  
Julian huffed. Now _that_ was fishing. Time to take someone down a peg. "Speaking about young and spry, Garak, I'm sorry to say your counterpart let one of your secrets slip."  
  
Garak's raised eyeridges communicated polite disbelief.  
  
"You've been hiding something from me but your counterpart didn't know that." Julian crossed his hands, feeling unaccountably smug.  
  
Garak straightened his tunic, now the proper size, and went to the door. Julian had to admit that he missed the concealed ridges. "On another flight of fancy, are we?"  
  
Julian smiled. The chances to catch Garak like this were few and far between. They were to be treasured. "He said that you had to like Starfleet uniforms..."  
  
Garak glanced back to give Julian a long once-over as if to appraise the uniform in question. Julian's mouth went dry.  
  
"…being clothier and all," he finished feebly.  
  
"My dear Doctor"--Garak examined the melted bulkhead and shook his head--"my counterpart had known nothing about fashion or he would have better explained what he had meant." Garak turned around. "Without a single doubt, your uniform is atrocious." Julian scowled. "So whenever you wear less of it there is a distinct improvement."  
  
And with that and a smug little smile Garak left.  
  
Julian fumed, his face on fire. The nerve of that Cardassian!  
  
But if Garak could still embarrass him after all this time, then, perhaps, not everything had been lost to the necessities of war.

**Author's Note:**

> Working on this was lots of fun and I'm very grateful to Brinnanza for organising the bang, to all the artists and writers who took part in it, and especially to Apiaree for contributing her amazing work.


End file.
